A Cat's Tale
by Jane H.A.S. Doe
Summary: I'm ELEVEN! I turn into a CAT! I can't deal with this! People hate me. Boys beat me up, if I don't kick THEIR asses first. My mother picks on me for no reason. If they find out, do you think they'll congratulate me? NO! I WILL GET KILLED!
1. Born to Be Hated

_**A Cat's Tale  
**By: Jane H.A.S. Doe_

_**.  
..  
...**_

_**Book One: Born to Be Hated**_

**_...  
..  
._**

Yoruichi was born in shame.

Her father was Shihouin Sachio, a middle-class merchant and married man, and her mother was a geisha, one who was twenty years younger than he.

The geisha's name was Mai. She'd lived and worked in the Osaka district, and, though not particularly skilled in the arts of music, dancing, and tea ceremonies, was widely sought after. She'd never fully achieved a proper accent, but the horridness of her voice contrasted awesomely with her physical beauty.

Mai had a perfectly oval face and rosebud lips, and had the delicate bone structure of a carefully shaped porcelain doll. She had a light, feathery laugh, and beautifully wide and cat-shaped brown eyes. Her teeth were perfectly straight and white, and when she smiled at you, she could relieve pain. Everyone who knew of the baby secretly hoped that the baby would take after its mother.

Sachio was handsome enough, with a wide jaw and good cheekbones, but there were certain traits about him that certainly weren't likable. His dark purple hair hung up in messy spikes that would never lay flat. One of his teeth was annoyingly pointy and crooked. His eyes were dark and beady. He spent all of his spare change on sake, and he was obnoxious and disloyal.

Sachio smacked at a particularly frustrating mosquito that was buzzing at his neck. He only managed to swat it away to rest on the low-rise coffee table.

Annoyed and partially angry, Sachio tried to hit it, this time with a lot more force. He swore as the mosquitoes flew away unscathed, while he was left with a madly throbbing hand.

Cradling his hurt hand, he leaned back in his chair, groaning. The day—heck, the _year_— had been extremely stressful, and the hand seemed minute in comparison. He'd been living with four different women, none of which seemed to like him very much. Mai refused to talk to him, let alone look him in the eye. Nurse Lady (that is what he had dubbed her, because for the life of him, he could not remember her name) made his food very salty on purpose.

It's not like Sachio wanted to be here. The discreet little building had only four rooms and an outhouse. The kitchen didn't have any windows or a chimney, so it was always smoky and dim. The floors were made of packed dirt. The mosquitoes ate them alive unless they nearly drowned themselves in tea tree oil, which had a very strong odor that could make your eyes water.

Who _would_ want to be here?

However, the conditions couldn't be helped. The baby had to be born in secret. Nobody could know about it. This cottage was his punishment for his transgression.

But it was a matter of honor. Leaving a woman who was financially inept to care for a baby was disgraceful. He was going to have to wait until the baby was born, and then bring it with him to Kyoto. He'd explain everything to Maki, his wife. She'll have to except it. Women of status didn't leave their husbands. So they'll raise the child and pretend as if nothing had happened.

Sachio's shoulders slumped. He knew what he had to do. He knew he had to care for the illegitimate child. He knew it was his duty.

But really, did he _have_ to be present at the birth?

He wasn't even there at his _son's_ birth. And _he_ was genuine. Births were just so…disgusting. And this one wasn't any better. Sachio wasn't even in the same room as Mai and the others and it was still horrible. Screams and moans and random people shouting "Push!". It was enough to make someone retch.

Which is why he kept a pail by his side. Just in case.

Sachio glanced at the door slyly, as if he were afraid someone would catch him. The sun was already gone beyond the horizon, he could tell how dark it was through the paper door. If he were to leave right now, the chances of them finding him were very slim. He thought about the pros and cons of leaving. So far he could think of a whole bunch of pros and one con: he won't see his child. But that, he was actually okay with.

So why wasn't he out the door?

Sachio jerked suddenly. _Did I just here a baby crying?_ Sachio looked at the door. Now was his last chance. _Come on, legs. Move._ But, surprisingly, they didn't listen to him.

Sachio tapped his foot on the floor a bit impatiently. What was taking them so long? He knew they had to clean the baby up, but could they speed up? He had chosen to stay, and the least they could do was go faster so could get it over with.

Ten minutes went by. He had waited for the door to slide open, but it didn't happen. They were _still_ in there.

Sachio raised his eyebrows. Someone in the other room was crying, and it wasn't the baby. The baby had stopped awhile ago. Sachio sighed and got up from his chair.

"Hello? I'm coming in." Sachio slid the door open without waiting for an answer. The crying in the room stopped as soon as he opened the door, and he walked into the room in silence.

Sachio wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air. It smelled of tea tree oil, make-up, babies, and something else Sachio couldn't put his finger on. He looked over at the bed, where Mai slept. The sheets covered her face, but that wasn't so weird. The sun was shining brightly outside, and the only way anyone could get any sleep was by covering their eyes to block some light.

But where was the baby?

Sachio looked around the room. The nurse and the midwife sat in one corner. Their foreheads were pressed against the dirt floor. Their mouths were moving quietly and quickly. They were praying, no doubt, for good health of the baby. Sschio turned to the table. Ai sat there, the baby in her arms. She was singing in the newborn baby's ear.

_Move on through, move on through  
What is this narrow pathway here?  
It's the narrow pathway of the Tenjin shrine  
Please allow me to pass through  
_

Sachio moved closer and sat in the chair on the other side of the table. _I've heard this song before,_ Sachio thought. _I'm sure of it. But why is Ai singing it so slowly, so sadly?_

Ai didn't acknowledge him. She just continued to sing and stroke the baby's face. Sachio expected that. Ai was only eleven years old, but she knew exactly what was going on and who Sachio was. To her, Sachio was a bad man. A very bad man. So, Sachio dipped his hand in a vase of water that sat on the table and twirled his finger idly. The flowers in vase were missing, but Sachio was only vaguely interested in where they went.

_Those without good reason shall not pass_  
_To celebrate this child's 7th birthday  
__I've come to dedicate my offering_  
_It's all fine on the way but returning is scary_  
_It's scary but_  
_Move on through, move on through_

Ai finished her song, but went on stroking the baby's face.

"Can I hold her?" Sachio asked, sounding childish.

Ai stopped moving. Then she slowly (very slowly, Sachio noted) turned her head to face Sachio. Her eyes were puffy and red. Her face was wet with tears.

_So here's our mystery crier._

Aloud, Sachio asked, "What's wrong?"

Ai tried to ignore him. She began to sing a different song.

_Goodbye, my love, it has been really fun  
__Though your life is over, you remain in my heart  
__Please, do not forget you six coins  
__And I will see you when I depart as well_

Sachio realized the tune was a funeral march. She wasn't singing to the baby. She was staring directly at Sachio, a grim look on her face. It was as if this song was supposed to answer his question.

"Someone died?"

Ai nodded. She didn't say anything, though. Talking about it would only make her cry again.

Sachio looked around the room again. His gaze fell on Mai, sleeping peacefully under the sheets. At least, he _thought_ she was sleeping.

"Who?" Sachio asked, though he was pretty sure he didn't need to. Ai threw her head into her hands and began to sob uncontrollably. The baby sat in Ai's lab, sucking her thumb. Her eyes were wide, and it looked as if she were going to cry too.

Sachio crossed the room toward Mai's bed slowly. He gulped, trying to get the lump out of his throat. He removed the sheets covering Mai's face.

Mai's face was painted white. Ai had meticulously combed her hair into a formal hairdo. Her lips were painted red. Red powder was dusted over each of her closed eyes. The stench he had smelled when had arrived was stronger over Mai's bed.

The smell Sachio couldn't identify earlier? It was death. A stale smell. It was a mixture of blood, tears, and sorrow. Sachio sighed sadly, because he was sure now that Mai wasn't sleeping.

"What happened?" Sachio called across the room. He refused to let his voice crack or tears roll down his cheek. He moved the sheets downwards more. She was wearing a red dress, the only kimono she owned. On her chest lay three white chrysanthemums, the missing flowers from the vase.

"This baby…" Ai said, hardly above a whisper. She closed her eyes to keep from crying.

"That baby is a demon!" Nurse Lady called out from the floor. "She murdered her own mother!"

Sachio jumped a little. He had forgotten the nurse and the midwife were there.

"Izanami, what could she have done? What could we do so that we don't suffer the same fate? Oh, Great Divine, please don't kill us," the midwife prayed quietly. Her eyes were open, but they were glazed over and cloudy. She was swaying slightly from side to side as if she were

"The baby does not deserve to live!" Ai's face turned to a look of anguish at Nurse Lady's comment, but she said nothing.

"Excuse me?" Sachio said through gritted teeth. _No one_ talked about his family. "Did I _ask_ what you thought the baby deserved? Did I _pay_ for your opinion? No, I believe not. I paid you to birth the child. But you couldn't even do _that_ right. You are letting a _child_ care for my baby? You don't _deserve_ your payment! But you got it anyway, didn't you?" Sachio clenched his fist. He walked over to Ai and took the baby off of her lap. "This baby may not _deserve_ to live, but she's going to anyway!"

"You're making a mistake! That baby will bring you nothing but bad luck. It's cursed!"

"Well, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but go away! I _still_ haven't asked for your advice and I'm sure I won't ask for it in the future! Therefore, your services are not needed any longer and I'll have to ask you to leave!" Sachio pointed a finger at the midwife. "You too! And, Ai, if you are not willing to protect and care for your niece, if you are going to blame her for Mai's death, then you can leave as well."

Ai shook her head. "I ain't goin' nowhere!"

"Well, we are! Come on, Chiyo!" Nurse Lady shouted. The midwife (Chiyo, Sachio now knew, though he didn't really care) followed Nurse Lady out of the room without a backwards glance.

"Oh, Mai, dear Mai!" Ai wailed, slumping in her seat. "Why?"

Sorrowfully, Ai pulled a tied up handkerchief from her sash. She untied it and pulled out six coins, which was the majority of the coins. She placed the copper coins in Mai's hands and clasped the dead girl's cold, dainty fingers around them. She needed six coins to cross the Sanzu River, the River of Three Hells. Sachio stared down at the newborn baby, and the baby stared back. The baby was wrapped in a thin blanket

"So, you've cleaned her?" Sachio asked. Ai nodded tearfully. She gestured toward a tub full of bloody water with her head still on the table. Sachio made a face; he felt his stomach lurch. He was and always will be squeamish of blood.

"What have you named her?"

"I've named her nothin'. I've saved that for you," Ai mumbled.

"Thanks," Sachio said almost sarcastically. He was never good with words. And that was all a name was: words. He considered naming her Maiko. But, he was sure Maki wouldn't appreciate that. Makiko, then? No, that would be a lie.

_What am I talking about? Everything this child will know will be a lie. _He was not planning on telling the child and Maki probably wouldn't either. Maki would…Maki would do everything in her power to make this baby miserable. Maki was a vengeful person. When Sachio tells her what happened, she'll probably want to show Mai a piece of her mind. Then she'll find out Mai was dead and she'll do the next best thing, torture Mai's child. This poor child will have the worse life imaginable, and she won't even know why.

"Have you named her yet?"

Sachio snapped out of his thoughts. "Hmm? Oh, no, I haven't."

Sachio rolled his eyes and looked out the window. Watching birds usually helped him think. But if there were birds out there, he couldn't tell. He had forgotten it was the middle of the night.

_The night…_ Sachio had finally decided what to name the newborn.

It wasn't going to be creative. What would you expect from Sachio? He named his first son "first son". Really. How original.

The baby smiled up at Sachio. Her eyes were big, bright and innocent. Her name was perfect! What better name for a child with the moon in her eyes?

_Happy birthday, Yoruichi, my night one.

* * *

_

_And that my Yoruichi's Birthday fic. I was trying to make it a oneshot, but I just got so many ideas about the life Yoruichi might have had that it... it became another chapter book. That is, if I get a good response to this chapter. So review!_


	2. Chapter 1

_This is the first chapter. The chapter before this is the prolouge, my original short story._

_**Thanks to these folks:**  
KaRiSa  
yes. this is sarah.  
DarkYoru  
Christina  
nemiss

* * *

_

"Now explain to me who Shihouin Gyofu was."

"Um… Shihouin Gyofu was…. Oh! Shihouin Gyofu is my great-great-great-great-great grandfather. He was a farmer born in 1479. He introduced double farming to Mankato."

Souma-sensei fanned herself with a yellow fan that perfectly matched her kimono. "What is double farming?"

"Double farming is when you farm two things at the same time. Like…fish and rice."

"But he didn't use rice and fish."

"He didn't? I mean, yeah, of course he didn't. He used…tomatoes and potatoes. The two different plants took different nutrients from the soil. He saved land and made a lot of money."

"Nice job, Yoruichi."

Yoruichi smiled widely, exposing her oddly sharp teeth. Souma-sensei twitched slightly; she had told Yoruichi countless times not to smile like that. Her teeth were known to intimidate people. One of those people just so happened to be Souma-sensei.

Reason number one for why Yoruichi smiled the way she did.

It's not that Yoruichi didn't like Souma-sensei. She loved her. She also loved to see her squirm. Souma-sensei was a very jumpy and cautious person. She wore her hair in a tight bun and wore circular-rimmed glasses. She didn't wear any make up at all, except for blush on her cheeks. She had a fan in four different colors: pink, yellow, red, and white. She covered her mouth with a fan every time she talked, so she always sounded muffled.

"You must have been studying!"

"Yes, I have!" Yoruichi said proudly. "I read his entire journal, just like you told me."

"Well, are you ready for another one?"

Yoruichi didn't hesitate to show her disapproval. "Aww, come on!" Yoruichi whined. "I did that last one almost perfectly! Don't I get a reward? Better yet, can we stop the lessons for today? Please?" Yoruichi did her Sad Angel Face ©, a look that she perfected so that no one could resist her. She even let her bottom lip quiver a bit.

"Just one more, okay?" Souma-sensei pushed up her glasses. "Who was Shihouin Astui?"

"Born in 916. She was… um…"

"Do you want a hint?"

"No! I've got it. Just let me think. Um…uh…"

"I'll just tell you and you can read up on her tonight."

" It's at the tip of my tongue…"

"She was a storyteller, alright? Her father was advisor to the emperor and her mother was a fine seamstress and weaver."

"I knew that." Yoruichi slumped in her seat. Souma-sensei hit Yoruichi on the thigh with a closed fan before opening it and putting it over her mouth once more.

"Don't slouch! It's really interesting that you didn't know about her," Souma-sensei said thoughtfully as Yoruichi scooted up in her seat. Souma-sensei had a habit of jumping from one subject to another.

"Why's it so interesting? I don't know a _lot_ of people."

"It's nothing," Souma-sensei murmured. Souma-sensei fumbled under her chair, looking through the many scrolls that were stored there. She found the one she was looking for: a scroll fifteen centimeters long. "Here. Read this tonight. It's one of Astui's stories."

Yoruichi raised her eyebrows and let the scroll fall into her hand. The outside was made of a dark brown wood, almost black. It looked old, but Souma-sensei had polished it well. She gently unrolled the scroll a little in order to see the title. _The Dreams of Cats and Foxes._

"It's one of her first," Souma-sensei explained enthusiastically. "It's about—"

"Don't tell me, sensei! Then, there would be no point in me reading it."

"Oh…right…"

"Does this mean I can go?" Yoruichi asked abruptly.

"Yoruichi! Don't be rude!"

"Sorry…"

"And, yes, you may go."

Yoruichi hopped off of her seat. Souma-sensei got up as well. She brushed of the front of her kimono and adjusted her glasses again. Yoruichi and her teacher exited the cozy (Souma-sesei's word for _small_) cottage.

Souma-sensei's cottage was just to the side of the Shihoin house. She was the only worker who lived on location. She served as tutor for Yoruichi and her brother Tarou. But Tarou had begun his apprenticeship as a fisherman, so now it was just Yoruichi.

"Yoruichi, don't forget your sandals."

Yoruichi snorted. "Yeah, right." Yoruichi disliked clothes in general, and Souma-sensei was lucky that Yoruichi even wore this _jinbei. _Shoes were very uncomfortable, so that was as good as it gets.

"Fine." Souma-sensei straightened out her kimono again. She patted down her hair and pushed up her glasses.

"Why do you care how you look, sensei? Where are you going?"

"The market," Souma-sensei said while redoing her bun. "Hey, do you think my hair would look better down?"

"Of course! I've told you that several times. But, leave it that way. You just wouldn't be you without the bun."

Souma-sensei smiled. "I've gotta buy some food for the cook and I won't be back until late. Try not to beat anyone up while I'm gone, alright?"

"Why, sensei! Of _course_ I won't!"

"Why is it I don't believe you?"

"Because you've known me a _very_ long time."

* * *

"Hey, Yoruichi, look what I got!" Takeo shouted. He gestured at the _tachi_ tied to his waist. The long sword dragged across the grass.

Yoruichi sighed. Takeo was her archenemy; that is, if little girls of eleven can have archenemies. His older brother and father were both samurai, and he was sure he would follow suit. He was obnoxious and didn't like girls who tried to anything besides cook and clean, which meant he absolutely hated Yoruichi. He was showing her the sword not because he cared what she thought but because he wanted to make her feel inferior and jealous. But she got up from her sunning spot anyway because... well, swords were cool and she didn't get to see them often enough.

" Nice toy, Takeo. Mind if I play with it?"

"Yes, I do. Swords aren't for girls; they're for men."

"Oh, and I'm _sure_ you count yourself as the latter. I bet I can still beat you even if you use the real sword and I use a stick."

"Is that a fact?"

"My word's law."

"Well, go get you girly stick and I'll go get my friends. I want to humiliate you as mush as I can."

"I'm positive you do. Too bad you're not gonna." Yoruichi stuck her tongue out at Takeo and spun on her heel and ran into the house.

Yoruichi's room was a small one on the ground floor of the house. Yoruichi often wondered why she didn't have one of the rooms upstairs since there were plenty of them, but it didn't matter much. She was only in the room to sleep.

She saw her wooden sword on the floor by her futon. It was a stick that she had whittled down so that it resembled a _katana_. It was well-worn. On most days, Yoruichi practiced with Tarou or Takeo or any of the other neighborhood boys. The girls didn't seem to like her much and seldom played with her.

She went back to the front yard. Only four boys were gathered there.

"Pitiful, Takeo. Only three friends?"

"No! The others were in the middle of a Go tournament."

"Whatever makes you feel popular."

"Keep talking! Just you wait!"

"I'm shaking on the inside. Anyway, what are the rules?" Originally, the rules were they keeping jabbing and waving their swords until somebody pokes the other in the heart, stomach, or gut. But that was when both of them were fighting with wooden swords. The same rules couldn't apply now, or else Yoruichi might get hurt.

"There are none."

"What! That's not fair! Are you telling me that this is a real sword fight?"

"This is a real sword, right?"

"Then let me go get a real sword of my own!"

"No!" Takeo smirked. "You said you can beat me with that fake sword. So come on, beat me."

"Fine, I will." Yoruichi glared. Her grip on her sword tightened. With a yell, Takeo swung at her with his sword. She yelped a ducked out of the way. He tried again and spun around in a full circle upon missing.

_A plan. I've got to think of a plan._ Yoruichi couldn't block, because he'd slice through her sword like butter. She couldn't keep dodging like this or she'll get tired. Takeo had never practiced with a real sword and he didn't know what he was doing. He wasn't used to the weight of a real sword. If he kept swinging wildly like that, he might not hurt Yoruichi but he is sure to hurt one of the other boys or himself. Yoruichi didn't want that.

Takeo swung again, this time downward. It whistled in the air and landed with a thump on the ground.

"Takeo, you could have really hurt me that time!" Yoruichi yowled. The sword had brushed against her leg and ripped her shorts. There was even a faint cut in her skin.

"Oh, well."

"Takeo!"

Yoruichi ran to the far side of the yard where there was a humongous tree. She ran behind it and waited for Takeo to come after her. When he did, Yoruichi ran back around the tree so that she was behind her. He stood there, bewildered, wondering where Yoruichi went. She hit him on his back. He yelped and turned around. Yoruichi hit him again, this time on his arm. He howled in pain and dropped his sword. She jabbed him in the stomach and jumped on the massive tree trunk and began to climb.

Yoruichi settled down in one of the lowest branches, which was four meters up. Takeo tried to start climbing and reach her but failed. He couldn't grip on to the large trunk.

"You'll never get up here!" Yoruichi laughed. Yoruichi had to practice a lot to get up here. The secret was to go really fast up the trunk without bothering to cling on, almost like you were running. Yoruichi learned how by watching cats who climbed the tree to get at the birds.

Takeo tried again but failed once more. "Yoruichi! You're stupid!" He kicked the trunk. The tree didn't even rustle.

"What? I can't quite hear you, being up in a tree and all."

"You're stupid! You're so _stupid_ that you think four times three is twelve!"

"Tsk-tsk, Takeo. You ever expect to become a samurai with that brain? Four times three _is_ twelve."

"Yeah? Well…you're still stupid. You're poor, too! And…you hit like a girl!"

Yoruichi clenched her teeth together. She threw her sword down at Takeo. It hit him in the head and made a rather audible knocking sound.

"Is that supposed to be an insult!" Yoruichi shouted. Takeo groaned and rubbed his sore head. "Seems to me, I can hit a lot better than you can. Keep talking like that, and I'm sure to get you into trouble!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on! As if your mother would _give_ you a sword to play with. You _stole_ it. And I'm going to tell."

"You wouldn't!"

"Are you sure? Wanna find out? Then leave me alone!"

Takeo backed away, but not before stepping on her sword. It snapped under his weight. He grinned devilishly.

"Oops! Did _I _do that?"

Yoruichi growled and jumped down from the tree. She lost her balance as she landed and scraped her knee. Nevertheless, she got right back up. Takeo's eyes widened and he turned and started to run away. Yoruichi picked up one of the pieces of her sword and threw it at Takeo's back. She missed and stomped her foot at doing so. The other boys scampered away as well, since she had another piece of sword that she could throw, and who knew who she'd throw it to next?

Yoruichi winced as she walked back to her sunning spot. She reached for the scroll her teacher had given her earlier. She had been planning to read it outside, but she had fallen asleep. She was prone to falling asleep in the sun. And then the _baka_ came. She surveyed the damage.

Her shirt was smudged and dirty from climbing that tree. Her shorts were torn severely; most of her thigh was exposed. The cut on her leg had turned into an angry welt that itched miserably. Her scraped knee stung. And, to top it all off, her sword was broken. It had taken _forever_ to make.

"Yoruichi!"

Yoruichi looked up. Souma-sensei was standing over her. Her face was etched in concern, and, though Yoruichi didn't notice, she had no groceries in her hands. She eyed Yoruichi in curiosity and then in understanding. Her face changed from concern to anger. She brought her hands to her hips and her brows became furrowed.

"Uh… hi?" Yoruichi grinned uncertainly. She closed eyes and sighed, for she knew what was coming.

"Yoruichi! You _promised_!"

* * *

_**A/N:** I know the ending is a bit blunt, but this was getting _way_ too long. So, I cuffed it a bit. I hope you don't mind too much._

_So, review, people, and tell me what you think. Do you like it? Do you hate it? Am I going to slowly? Is it a snoozer? Tell me! All you have to do is press 'Go'. That way, I can fix what's wrong with it._


	3. Chapter 2

_Hi! Here's another chapter. But, first..._

_**Reviewers**_

_KittiKat626  
nemiss

* * *

_

**_Chapter Two_**

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"Ouch!"

"Sorry."

"Okay, by now you should know that that really hurts." Yoruichi glared at her sensei. "So _stop_."

"No, I can't. You're cuts might get infected or something. I have to clean them."

"They are _clean_." Yoruichi squirmed in the bath and lowered her leg into the water. It stung horribly, but Yoruichi pasted a smile on her face. "See I'm all better. Leave so I can finish my bath."

Souma-sensei sighed. "You're not even supposed to be taking a bath now. You're lucky your mother isn't home."

"My mother wouldn't really let me go to bed all dirty and bleeding."

Souma-sensei paused. "Umm…of course she wouldn't. She's not so heartless… But, really, you should get out now, and take a bath in the morning."

Yoruichi shrugged and jumped out of the tub. Souma-sensei tossed a yukata at Yoruichi's head. Yoruichi pulled it off her head and draped it over her shoulders grudgingly.

"You really should be more modest, Yoruichi."

"The meek never win the wars, sensei." Yoruichi pulled the plug on the tub. She sat on a stool in front of the mirror and began to comb the water from her hair. Souma-sensei gently took the comb from her and began doing it instead

"You're not to win any wars, Yoruichi. You're out to marry someone with considerable wealth, bear two boys, and gain status."

"Wrong. That's what you're out to do. I'm out to kick Takeo's a—"

"Don't you _dare_ finish that sentence." Souma-sensei tugged at Yoruichi's hair, obviously not by accident.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why is it that all you want to do is fight boys?"

"Because the girls are to weak, and they close their eyes every time they swing at someone."

"No! What I meant was, why do you fight at _all_? Why can't you play with the girls?"

"The girls in this neighborhood don't like me."

"I'm sure they do. Why don't you use that doll I gave you to sort of break the ice? I'm sure they'd love it."

"I've tried that. They hated it! They said it was cheap and the color scheme was off! They threw poor Yuki right back at me."

"They did what! Well, kindly _remind_ them that that doll is worth more than each one of there puny lives…" Souma-sensei cleared her throat. "I mean, tell them the doll was very expensive."

"I did the first, which got them kind of mad at me." Yoruichi grinned sheepishly. "But I don't care, really. Those girls are jerks. They're mean to servants and anyone else who works. They wouldn't _survive_ down at the market."

"What about the baker's daughter?"

"She's ten year's older than I am. Nobody down in town is even close to my age."

"Do you want to be a loner all your life?"

"No, sensei, I don't. Which makes living that much harder."

* * *

Yoruichi fell back on her futon. She wasn't at all sleepy, even though it was nearly midnight. She was a nocturnal little girl. Her schedule resulted in her having cat-naps several times during the day. 

But, now, as she was wide-awake, she unrolled the scroll her teacher had given her. The story was really short, so reading _that_ didn't take to long. She laid the scroll next to her an curled into a tight ball. This is another trick she learned by watching cats: curling into a ball helped to trap heat. This was necessary, since her mother never supplied her with enough blankets.

* * *

"Yoruichi, how did you enjoy your story?" 

"It was interesting enough. I just didn't understand it."

"Would you like me to explain it to you?"

"Why not?" Yoruichi cuddled up next to Souma-sensei. They were in the Shihouin front yard. They sat in the shade of the big tree. It was Thursday. Thursday was Chores Day for the rest of the household, but it was Souma-sensei's day off. For this reason, Yoruichi didn't have her studies on Thursday.

"Do you have it with you?"

"Probably." Yoruichi looked in her bag. At the market one day, she saw a woman who held her baby in a sling on her back. Yoruichi decided to make something similar, only this was going to carry objects.

"Yoruichi, how about we go to the market today? Does that sound fun?"

"Sure, but didn't you go to the market _yesterday_?"

Souma-sensei blushed, which was an odd reaction to Yoruichi's question. "Yeah…well…they didn't have the stuff Cook needed…so I'm going again today." Souma-sensei got up from her seat. "So are you coming?"

"Yeah," Yoruichi said. She got up still clutching her bag.

They were well on their way down the road when Yoruichi found the scroll in question. She handed it to Souma-sensei. Once sensei opened it, Yoruichi pointed to a sentence in the second paragraph.

"I don't understand that."

"What do you mean, 'they dream to become multi-tailed?' That sentence means that cats and foxes wish to grow more tails."

"Why?"

"Well, two legendary creatures are the _kitsune_ and the _bakeneko_. The kitsune is a nine-tailed fox while the bakeneko is a cat with two tails, or one forked tail. So, Atsui is saying that cats and foxes wish to become divine."

"Then, it says, 'A cat dreams of beckoning you closer.'" Yoruichi said after awhile. She pointed at a phrase in the forth paragraph. Souma-sensei read it over.

"That means a cat dreams of bidding you good luck."

"What about…" Yoruichi scanned the scroll for something else she didn't understand last night. "'Foxes dream of flying to other worlds'?"

"Well…I'm not to sure about that one. It might have something to do with the fact that Atsui loved the idea of traveling. She'd look at the sea and she knew there was other land besides the land she stood on. She wanted to visit these other lands so bad. Maybe she was referencing herself as if she were a fox."

"Why would she do that? Why would she write any of this? Why not say exactly what you mean?"

"Because, dear, then it wouldn't be poetic." Souma-sensei smiled as she pushed up her glasses. They had arrived at the first signs of the marketplace: scattered fruit stands and a lot of people. They turned the corner and entered the plaza.

"Ooh! Look! Cherries!" Yoruichi gazed at a rickety stand. "Can we by some?"

"No. Cherries aren't in season. Which means those probably aren't cherries. Or they can be green cherries painted red. In other words, don't buy them."

"Oh."

"There's a saying: 'don't buy a rabbit with its head chopped off, because it just may be a cat."

Yoruichi made a face. "Um…ew?"

"It's just a saying, dear. It just means that here, people would do anything for money. Pay attention to what you buy."

Yoruichi nodded.

"Okay. I'll be going now, Yoruichi. Meet back here when your shadow turns short, okay?"

Yoruichi nodded and ran through the plaza.

Souma-sensei never gave Yoruichi money to buy anything, but that's because her mother ordered her not to. Yoruichi liked going to the different stands anyway. Sometimes, the vendors were nice enough to give her free food. Or sometimes she had to nick it, but that wasn't _too_ regular.

It was harder to get free stuff in the shops. These people were more snooty because they were rich enough to afford a store. They pushed you out if you looked like you didn't have money. Yoruichi went into these anyway.

She held her head up high and began to act like the girls in her neighborhood. _Act natural, completely natural. _The woman behind the counter nodded at her and she smiled behind her fan. She peered on the shelves to look at the different cloth and ribbon. Two women were stationed near her, and they were talking loudly.

"Another one died today." This first on was short and fat, with a large nose. Her hair was brown, and was pulled back by a _kanzashi_.

"Really? Who was it this time." This woman was tall and lanky. Her dress hung oddly around her and her black hair hung loosely to her sides.

"The Sato's son. They cremated him yesterday."

"This disease, it's an epidemic!"

"Wouldn't you know? And the _kampo_ man still hasn't found a cure."

"Isn't he over a hundred years old? He knows so much, and he didn't figure it out?"

"No. It's impossible!"

"Only demons and witches can cause incurable diseases."

Yoruichi slowly rummaged threw a barred full of loose ribbons. She was eavesdropping on their conversation, which was getting interesting. Yoruichi stopped looking at what she was doing and stared at the two women.

"Does that mean there's a _demon_ amongst us?" The fat one said worriedly.

"Or witch."

"What can we do?"

"Drink some _toso_ and pray to the _kami_." The tall one looked up suddenly. She nudged her friend and they both turned to look at Yoruichi.

"What are _you_ looking at?" The fat one snapped.

"I could ask you the same thing." Yoruichi pulled her hand out of the barrel, still holding on to three ribbons. "Now if you'll excuse me." Yoruichi walked purposely to the front door with the ribbons behind her back.

When she was out of eyesight, Yoruichi began to run. She hadn't stolen much, but it was still enough to get her a swift smack on her hand. Not to mention what her _mother_ would do to her.

Yoruichi shuddered and went into the shelter of a empty doorway. She looked down at the ribbons she had just taken. One was yellow, another was orange, and the next was green. She paused to think of how exactly she would explain her loot this time.

_A kind boy gave them to me, sensei. Aren't they lovely?_ Yoruichi grinned. She looked into the store whose doorway was hiding her.

Books.

Tons and tons of books were sitting on the shelves of what Yoruichi supposed was a bookstore. The two things that Yoruichi like most were swords and books. Real books, not the scrolls Souma-sensei sometimes let her read. Books ten centimeters thick. Books that couldn't put down, that you had to read until you got to the end. Entranced, she entered the store.

No one seemed to be there. Yoruichi walked quickly to the counter. On it sat a mini-gong. It was the kind that an old man sold at the corner of the market. The gong itself was gold and it was tied to a stand with red ribbons. Rin, their cook, had one so that she could strike it instead of yelling for people to come and eat their meals.

Yoruichi picked up the mini-mallet that came with the mini-gong. She tapped it against the gong, lightly at first, but it steadily grew louder.

"Closed!" Came a voice from the back of the store.

"What?" Yoruichi asked. She held her hand against the gong to stop it from ringing.

"I said," A boy popped out from the back room. "We're closed."

The boy…man….no…teenager was tall, but not gigantic. His hair was platinum blonde, and it covered most of his right eye. His eyes were gray. He wore a forest green kimono with a _hakama _underneath. He held two books in each hand, and he looked at Yoruichi with utter curiosity.

Yoruichi wasn't surprised. Her skin was a pretty shade of brown and her hair was purple, two traits that weren't very common in Kyoto.

"That doesn't make any sense! Today's Thursday. Who closes their shop on Thursday?"

"I do." Urahara shrugged. "I'm sleepy today."

"But I wanted to look at the books."

"Do you have any money?"

Yoruichi shook her head solemnly. "No, I don't. And I probably never won't. But, I just want to look at them. But…" Yoruichi turned toward the open door. "I'll just go."

The boy thought for a second. "Do you really want to see the books?"

Yoruichi stopped at the door. She turned back and nodded.

"Then come tomorrow, regardless of whether or not you have money."

"You'll be open tomorrow?"

"No. At least, not to just anyone. Just you. You can read my books here, but I'm afraid you I can't loan you them. Wouldn't be very business-like."

Yoruichi smiled and nodded. She was about to rush out the door when the boy called out to her again.

"Hey! What's your name, kid?"

"Shihouin Yoruichi. Yours?"

"Kisuke. Urahara Kisuke." Kisuke nodded his head, or maybe he bowed really, _really_ informally. "And _this_ is Urahara's Shop."

* * *

_**A Cat's Tale Glossary**  
geisha- entertainer. Geisha are not allowed to get married. They are experts in dance, singing, or tea ceromonies.  
Izanami-one of the two peple who created the world. Izanami died giving birth to a child, and she became the God of Death.  
sensei-teacher  
Tarou-first son  
tachi-type of sword, a bit longer than a katana  
katana-another type of sword (Most shinigami in the series have this type of sword.)  
baka-idiot  
kanzashi-type of hair clip  
kampo-practitioner of medicine. Most kampo men learn ancient Chinese medicine  
toso-sake with medicine in it. On New Year, everyone drinks it, regardless of age  
kami-spirits. There are said to be 8,000,000 kami. In Japan, they use 8,000,000 often to describe infinity  
hakama-pants that look like skirts. The English called them riding pants, and most people who wore them were girls. On the contrary, in Japan the boys were the ones who wore them_

_Wow...sorry that being so long. The glossary, not the story. I totally forgot to put one in the last two chapters. And it's not fair to make you Google all the information._

_So, go ahead and review! Tell me what you think!  
_


	4. Chapter 3

**Hitomi:** Is there an angry mob out there?  
**Angry Mob:** No...

**Reviewers:**  
Gaignun Girl  
KittiKat626  
iluvchocs  
Captain Beatty  
nemiss  
yes. this is sarah.  
TeZukAb0ch0u  
Christina

**Chapter Three**

The day started normally for Yoruichi. She woke up at 5:30 AM. Yoruichi always got up early, not because anyone woke her up, but because her biological clock had an alarm.

She rolled out of her bed and yawned. She did a few morning stretches to get her blood pumping. She slipped out of the yukata she slept in. She tied a dark green jinbei on. It was very big for her. It belonged to her father.

_Father…_ Yoruichi thought as she tied her hair up with her stolen ribbon. Her hair was not at all long, but if she worked at it, she could get it into a decent bun. She patted her hair and walked to the door.

Her door was an odd one. It was influenced by Western culture and was made of wood, not paper. Yoruichi sometimes walked in her sleep, and when she was smaller she would burst right through the wall. Maki renovated it by reinforcing the walls with plaster and installing a new door, neither of which she did personally. All the changes added on to the room's cell-like appearances. No light came in from the outside and it seemed dark and frightening at night, even with a candle.

Yoruichi walked down the hallway quietly. She stopped at the end of the hall, where there was an overly large door. She struggled a little to get it open. She walked inside. The room was nearly as large as her room, which really wasn't saying much. She neglected to light any incense, but she did light a few candles.

She lit one for her sensei, herself, Tarou, Rin, and her father Sachio. She said each of these people's names as she lit each candle. After a lot of thought (and a bunch of nagging from her conscience), Yoruichi finally decided to light a candle for her mother.

"Maki," Yoruichi whispered before bowing her head and putting her palms together.

"Please, I beg you. I pray that my father returns safely home. I hope his trip has not been weary. Please, let him bring many riches with him. Everyone would be so much happier if he just came home." Yoruichi prayed. She pulled a flower out of a vase by the door and put it in front of one of he seven statues in the room, the one holding the fish. "I have given you a gift, Ebisu. Bless my father."

Yoruichi's father sailed the seven seas, trading ivory, silk, and spices. He traveled up and down the Spice Route and the Silk Road for years. He had become very profitable, though Japan was reluctant to trade with other countries.

Then, a mere three years after Yoruichi was born, Shihouin Sachio left on a voyage to Brazil and didn't return. Souma-sensei said it took two years to get to Brazil. But really, how could he be gone for eight years? There was no justification. Yoruichi wished he'd just come back. Virtually everyone in the house was sure he was dead. Souma-sensei said that she thought he was alive and well, but Yoruichi thought that was just to make her feel better.

* * *

"Move it!" Yoruichi pushed her sensei through the market streets. "We're losing valuable sunlight here!" They were taking a different route than normal. They were traveling on the Kyoto Wharf, the place where most of their fish came from. 

The wharf was a noisy place. Huge crates hung from ropes overhead. They swung clumsily as they were unloaded from ships. Souma-sensei cringed, thinking that maybe one of the ropes might break and a crate would crash down on her and little Yoruichi.

"Why did you want to go this way again?" Souma-sensei asked. A fishing boat dumped its catch on the dock. The stench of smelly fish mixed in with the smell of salty water.

"It's quickest." When pushing Souma-sensei failed to be fast enough, Yoruichi tugged at her hands instead. Getting Souma-sensei to go to the bookstore was easy. Getting her to go to the bookstore _quickly_ wasn't.

Yoruichi maneuvered through the crowd expertly. She ducked into the hardly noticeable bookstore doorway. She let go of Souma-sensei's hands and rushed to the center of the store. She raised her hands and posed grandly. If she were more aware of the cultures of other parts of the world, she would have known that she resembled a tango dancer or a ballerina.

"We're here!" Yoruichi announced unnecessarily.

"I've noticed." Souma-sensei eyed the store.

"Look!" Yoruichi rushed over to the mini-gong. "Does this look familiar?"

"Yes. But please stop, Yoruichi. You're acting like a child."

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry! I forgot that eleven-year-olds are supposed to act twenty-five." Yoruichi sneered, despite her excitement. She picked up the mini-mallet and struck the gong.

"Yoruichi?" Urahara shuffled into the room. His shoes clacked noisily on the wooden floor. Wooden floors were a luxury that most people couldn't afford. Business must have been doing well.

"And friend." Yoruichi pointed at Souma-sensei, who bowed with her hands clasped in her lap.

"_Hajimemashite_. Nice to meet you." Urahara bowed informally. He smiled at Souma-sensei. "Are you guys…sisters?"

"Hardly," Yoruichi laughed. "She's my tutor. She has business in town, so she thought might as well see me off."

"How old are you?" Souma-sensei asked in that random way of hers.

"Me? Seventeen."

"And that's old enough to run a business?"

"Yeah…well…I guess. It's not like I have a choice. If I don't work, I don't get money to buy food and all. I live alone."

"Oh. Why?"

Urahara was silent for awhile. "I have no one to live with. My brother died."

"Why?"

"Well, I wouldn't _know_, since I wasn't the person who killed him."

"What do you sell here?"

"…Books?"

"What _kind_ of books?"

"Souma-sensei!" Yoruichi interrupted her teacher's interrogation impatiently.

"Right. Sorry." Souma-sensei pushed up her glasses. "I guess I'll go now. Take care."

"I will, sensei."

"And, I'll talk to Takeo today. I'll get him to apologize at the very least. You'll apologize too, won't you?"

"Whatever."

Souma-sensei looked at Yoruichi worriedly. "I'd stay if I could. If anything happens, you have my permission to use your knife." Souma-sensei looked at Urahara square in his eyes. "_Anything._"

* * *

Seven books lay strewn in front of Urahara. They were each strategically placed, overlapping each other in various ways. He had a habit of reading several books at the same time. Yoruichi sat quietly across from him at the small table. 

They were reading in the backroom Urahara seemed to spend most of his days in. The room was relatively big. A small mat lay rolled up in the corner. Stacks of books acted as stands for his washing basin. A cupboard with no doors held clean dishes.

The room was messier than Yoruichi would have liked it to be. There were bottles and dirty bowls all over the floor. Crumpled pieces of paper lay neglected. Urahara had made an effort to clean by pushing all the trash on to an unused wall.

"Who's Takeo?" Urahara asked suddenly. He flipped the page of three different books.

"Hmm?" Yoruichi said absently. She furrowed her brow and tried to concentrate on her story. She hated it when people talked to her as she read. It was annoying, and Souma-sensei had a habit of doing it.

"Takeo. You know, that boy you and your tutor was talking about."

"Nobody. Nobody important anyway. He's this totally obnoxious mama's boy who thinks he's funny. He broke my sword and he cut me right _here_." Yoruichi slapped her knee angrily.

"Your sword? How'd he do that?"

"It's not a _real_ sword. It was made of wood. He stepped on it. We were having a swordfight, and he was mad that he lost. Well, he didn't _lose_, but he definitely didn't win." Yoruichi looked at Urahara to make sure he was still listening. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes, perfect sense. And the dagger. Is that made of wood?"

"Nope!" Yoruichi fumbled in her bag and withdrew a 10 cm knife. She removed a black, fake-jewel decorated hilt to reveal a silver dagger. "Nice, huh? And it's sharp too. I wonder why she'd want me to use it on you…"

"She probably thinks I'm a child molester." Urahara laughed. "A perverse pedophile with a fetish for young girls…" Urahara laughed again and continued to read his books. Yoruichi, on the other hand, neglected her book and stared nervously at Urahara.

Five minutes passed, and Yoruichi still hadn't begun her book again.

"It was a _joke_, something meant to be _laughed_ at. So please, stop staring at me. You're really giving me the creeps."

* * *

Souma-sensei knelt so that she could tie Yoruichi's kimono. 

"No, sensei! Let _me_ do that. You're to gentle; my clothes would come loose."

"Oh, all right." Souma-sensei pulled herself up from the floor. "I've been tying my own clothes for the past fifteen years, and they have never come undone. But, if you insist, I have to do my make-up _anyway_."

"Wait!" Yoruichi grabbed onto Souma-sensei's arm. "I need you to tie my hair up." Yoruichi held up her red ribbon. On their mad dash home, Yoruichi's other ribbon had come loose. But it was okay, since the kimono she would be wearing at dinner would be red anyway.

"Where'd you get that ribbon?" Souma-sensei narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Oh…um…" Yoruichi had nearly forgotten she'd stolen the ribbon. "Urahara gave them to me. He sent for some books and they came tied together with three ribbons. He didn't need them…so he gave them to me."

"Who would tie books up with ribbons? What happened to good ole rope?"

"I dunno… maybe they thought it looked prettier."

They were both quiet for awhile as Souma-sensei tried to force Yoruichi's hair into a bow. Finally, Souma-sensei spoke.

"How's Urahara?"

"Well…he's nice."

"Are you _sure_?"

Yoruichi smiled at Souma-sensei's overprotective-ness. Some of the girls on her street complained when their mothers snooped in their business. But, seeing as her own mother didn't give a damn, she needed all the caring she could get. "I'm positive. He's got an odd sense humour, and he reads loads of books at the same time. He's really…weird." Yoruichi taped her chin thoughtfully. "But that's okay because I'm really weird too."

"You? Weird? _Unique_, maybe, but weird? Never. Why would you think so?"

Yoruichi was silent. Weird was the only word that _could_ describe her. Or, at least, how she felt that day. Eight million ants crawled all over her skin. Her vision switched from being blurry to clear randomly, as if deciding which were better. She felt that she was wearing clothes four sizes to small, like maybe her birthday suit itself was shrinking.

"I give up!" Souma-sensei handed the ribbon to Yoruichi. She held up her hands in mock defeat. "Your hair is way too short. I can't even get it into an _odango_! You'll just have to wear it down." She picked up a brush from the countertop and proceeded to brush Yoruichi's hair. She used the ribbon a headband to keep Yoruichi's hair behind her ears.

When she finished, Souma-sensei put the brush down and looked at herself in the mirror. They were in the powder room, and Souma-sensei was planning to do her make-up.

The powder room resembled the bathroom in every way. They were on opposite sides of the house, and they had wooden doors with sophisticated locks. The tiles on both floors were white with pink diamonds and the paint on both walls was pink with black stripes. There was one difference, one that Yoruichi vowed never to forget since that fateful day when she was five years old. The powder room had no toilet.

Souma-sensei opened a large jar. She smeared the white cream on her face. She took a thick paintbrush and smoothed the cream out. She then dabbed on some light brown powder so that her make-up looked more natural and less shiny. She opened an inkwell and dipped a smaller paintbrush in it and painted her lips.

Yoruichi never put on make-up. The white make-up that was supposed to go on her skin contrasted badly with her brown skin tone. Still, she rubbed her hand against her face and tried to imagine herself with make-up.

Her skin felt rough against her fingers. No…not her skin…her…hair? It reminded her of the day that Tarou had shaved his head nearly bald. His head had felt spiky, as her skin was feeling now. Did she have hair growing on her _face_ now?

_Speaking of hair…_

Yoruichi drew her hand away from her face and smoothed out her hair thoughtfully. This morning, Yoruichi was able to get her hair into a bun with ease, yet just now it was impossible. As if her hair had grown shorter…

Weird indeed.

* * *

I apologize for not updating in so long. But the reason is...

I'M GROUNDED!

Yes, grounded. No computer, no television (no House. M.D. **:-( **), no fun. I got up this morning at the crack of dawn to write this chapter. It's rushed, since I have to finish it before my parents. (There might be a few typos. I'm very jumpy this morning. When I first got on the computer, the Windows starting song came on, and I forgot to turn the speaker down. It was the LOUDEST noise I have EVER heard.) It's really choppy and the scenary changes every fifty lines. Urahara doesn't even DO anything! So, for that, I'm sorry.

* * *

The**_r_**e is no sublim**_e_**nal message whatsoe_**v**_er _**i**_n what I am writing. I just lik_**e**_ to _**w**_rite ra_**n**_dom things for n_**o**_ apparent reason because I'm _**w**_eird.. 


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